


tokyo narita

by spacegirlkj



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Girls Make Great Decisions, Please Don't Make Out In Cars You'll Get A Kink In Your Neck, Really And Truly They Love Each Other, Sloppy Makeouts, Songfic, idk how to tag this like??, lesbians !!!!! they make everything good, prose, reckless college students do dumb shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9509132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirlkj/pseuds/spacegirlkj
Summary: There isn't a purpose to them— there never was. It's not the last time, and it'll never be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hoo boy i love being a lesbian  
> so, like, i havent even been writing fic for a year, and despite every single one of my orginal works featuring the universe's best creations- gay girls- i havent written NEARLY enough femslash. for one, theres not enough of it on the media im currently consuming, which is annoying, but for what is there, there is little demand. like, so little demand. also almost all the f/f haikyuu fics are just a side pairing mentioned once or a one of those "drabble posts!" where its 100 words of lesbians and then the void. dont get me wrong, i know theres some a++ girls hq fic out there, and i have read it all. its just like.... i want more  
> in my effort to seperate success from numbers, i decided to fuck the popular demand. im a gay girl and i wanna write gay girls, so youre getting gay girls once a month. at least. starting with stress write that sprawled into like, a weird pseudo character study.  
> unbeta'd, please enjoy!  
> also, this fic is based off of the halsey song tokyo narita. i mean kind of, but the vibes are there.

Saeko meets her while in Tokyo, after speeding down highways at paces that probably shouldn't be allowed. It’s a favour—for her brother, of course, she loves him like a second limb or tequila— to drop friends off at a training camp. She’s bored and yearning to find an excuse to get out of town, bones aching from disuse, mind stir crazy and vibrating with the destimulation that comes with being stuck in a city she knows too well.

So she drives to Tokyo, two kids she barely knows in the back, _Views_ blasting through crackling Honda Civic speakers. They’re funny, she guesses, they laugh and scream on cue to her jokes, listen to her jesting. It’s different, refreshing like cold showers or the ocean air, sticks to her skin in a way that makes every grin manic and edges her to speed into the parking lot of a high school she’s never been to, tumbling over the speed bumps and laughing as they skid to a stop.

It’s when Ryu’s friends leave that she spots her— a girl about her age, with long, silver hair hastily braided, strands falling out to frame a face with cherry red lips and strawberry cheeks. She’s tugging down her skirt, mumbling as it hikes up the curve of her hips, throwing the bag she carries over her shoulder as she skips steps to make her way into the gym. Saeko watches her disappear into the school from the window of her car, only slightly worried of what it could look like to a stranger.

She wants to follow her in. It’s only expected from her, being in a foreign city where the only people she knows are her brother’s friends and him, with she’s got a lingering kind of desire to find out where the girl is going. It’s pulling at her chest like electromagnetism, feels like someone’s flipped the on switch and is sending waves of curiosity through her veins and to her fingertips. Saeko opens the door to her car, leans against the door and considers it again. She really isn’t one to worry about things like this, but she doesn’t want to seem desperate. The silver haired girl passed by like a fox, quick, sly, a fleeting figure in the corner of her eye. She doesn’t even _know_ her.

It’s why, when the silver haired girl makes her way back out of the doors and down the steps of the school again, Saeko tries not to kin the feeling in her chest to coming home. Instead she smiles wide and waves, relaxing against the white car and hoping the girl will notice her.

And she does, spins around to face her with emerald eyes wide with surprise and a small smile gracing her lips. She’s got stray hairs framing her face, and there a birthmark under her right eye that stands out against her fair skin like inverted moonlight. As she approaches, Saeko becomes very aware of how tall she is, long, slender legs helping her tower nearly a foot taller.

“Hey!” Saeko says, raking her mind for something to say. “Are you dropping stuff off for the training camp too?”

The girl nods excitedly, leaning over Saeko slightly as she replies. “Yeah, my brother forgot a change of clothes,” she tells her. “What about you? Forgetful brother?”

Saeko laughs, shrugs her shoulders. “Ah, kind of. I was driving two of his friends who missed the bus— remedy exams, I think,” she says with a smile. “I’m Tanaka Saeko, by the way.”

“Alisa Haiba,” the girl says, and oh, Saeko tries not to stare as she runs a hand through the mess of a braid and pulls apart the stands. She catches the flesh of her inner cheek between her teeth and bites down as she smiles, tries to keep herself from saying something stupid. She tastes iron and the irony of her statement, because her mind is blank and Alisa is beautiful and still beaming down at her.

“You’re from out of town, aren’t you?” Alisa asks. Saeko nods, little laugh slipping from her lips. It must be obvious with her torn jean and worn out tank, car with dirt on the brim of the bump and across the white paint.

“How did you know?” Saeko jests, grinning as Alisa shakes her head. They laugh, ringing loud and warm through the empty parking lot, orange and coral like the sunset that ebbs slow behind them, pulling the sky towards twilight and farther away from dawn.

There’s a moment of silence between the two, lasting a minute and a millennium before Alisa speaks again, smile sly, grin wide.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

Saeko bites her lip, tries to keep her heart from stuttering. “Absolutely.”

 

Saeko lets Alisa drive, discovers she’s fast like the current of running rivers in the spring and reckless like the teens who try to cross. She lets Saeko blast Kanye through the crackling speakers, whipping her head around to the beat of the bass and blowing silver strands of hair from her face as she does so, laughing at the way Saeko snorts at her appearance, so unfazed by making a fool of herself to someone she’s just met. 

Alisa takes her to a park near the older subdivision where she lives, stopping only to duck into her own kitchen and grab a bottle of water down orange juice and vodka. It’s a dumb idea, a pair-of-kids-high-of-the-idea-of-adventure kind of idea, an idea that burns slightly when Saeko brings the bottle to her lips and makes her loose her balance on the swings they sit on. Alisa laughs at her stumble, takes the bottle back and smiles behind it at she takes a sip before wedging it between her thighs and leaning back, letting the swing push forwards and back in an ever moving pendulum motion. Saeko is hypnotized, can’t tear her eyes away from Alisa in all her silver haired glory reaching out towards the sky, legs clutched together as not to let the glass bottle fall.

It hits her like a thousand pins and needles to the heart, makes her insides buzz like bubble-gum highs and forces her smile to be something too close to adoration. When Alisa comes back down to earth, skirt hiked halfway up her ribs and alcohol splattered across her thighs. She’s a mess, cheeks flushed and hair awry, but Saeko isn’t sure she knows anything more beautiful than the way Alisa smiles when she hands the bottle back to her, eyes flicking up and down her body with nothing to hide.

“Looking for something?” Saeko jests, smirks wide as she swipes the bottle from Alisa’s hands and tips it back. The taste that hits her tongue is somehow sweeter, and its only when she pulls away that she sees the outline of lipstick on the rim.

“Maybe,” Alisa replies, twice as smug, tone with as much bite as the vodka that washes down Saeko’s throat. “Or maybe I’m just curious. So who is Tanaka Saeko?”

Saeko laughs at the question before mulling it over, tipping her head back to look at the fading night sky. “Well, I’m at school for engineering, but I’m working at a restaurant now. We make the best food in Miyagi, y’know that? It’s what I like to think anyway,” Saeko tells her. “I’m saving up for a motorbike currently, even though my dad is terrified of the idea.”

Alisa snorts, shaking her head. “I could definitely see you on a motorbike, leather jacket, helmet, whizzing down the four-oh-five.” As if to reinforce her point, she glides her hand through the air, making noises with her mouth to imitate the noises of a muffler.

Somehow, even as they wander back down the street, conversation appears from nowhere, leading them down winding suburb streets and making sentence drawn out and slow. Saeko stumbles over her feet, nearly face planting into the asphalt if not for Alisa grabbing the hem of her shirt and tugging her back up. The bottle slips from her hands and shatters, crashing against the ground in an explosion of glass and the little liquid left. They both freeze for only a moment, pausing to turn and stare each other in the eye. It’s not long before laughter punctures the temporary silence, loud and full as they step over the glass, Saeko resting her weight onto the taller girl beside her and letting her drunken smile ring loud around them.

Alisa kisses her, and it probably doesn't mean for anything more than a fling, but her lips carry the weight of the world and taste like orange and the sunrise. It’s sloppy and hot and wet and messy in every sense of the word, the two too tired to keep up with the hands and the bodies moving against one another in an empty Tokyo neighbourhood. Midnight rings out, sweltering heat mixed with the chill of the breeze and Saeko shivers, from the wind and the way Alisa leans down and runs her fingers through her hair.

 

It’s not a first and a last meeting, amazingly at it could sound. Alisa leaves Saeko her phone number, texts her relentlessly and bombards her with anything that could interest her. Pictures of dogs, wild stories relayed from her brother, phone calls spent with mutual crying over schoolwork and mathematics. Saeko learns Alisa loves strawberry banana smoothies and hates pineapple, learns that she’s in school for photography and wants to specialize in nature but will take work where she gets it. Saeko flips through her photos, of trees and people and birds alike, finds wonder in the strangeness of them all and sends a reply that consists mainly of hearts and exclamation points.

She ditches a Friday lecture and get’s a friend’s notes to drive back down to Tokyo to see her two months later, and this time Alisa steps heavy on the gas and drives through the city, stopping wherever Saeko shows interest and pulling her into crowded rooftop coffee shops to look out on the city. They sit near the railing and look down at the streets, Saeko amused with the way people move like dolls under her fingers as she watches. This time, they drink milkshakes instead of vodka, share laughter and experiences completely sober with no less fun. 

They’re making their way back through the streets when they bump into someone Alisa knows— a friend with a knowing smile and half lidded eyes. They talk and Saeko wishes with all her heart she could exist in the city of lights and busy streets and talk with Alisa like this everyday. Her friend leaves with a wave under the guise of groceries, and Saeko swears she catches the beginnings of a smirk on the corners of her lips before she leaves.

Saeko insists on driving on the way back, and Alisa does her best not to make fun of her road rage with Tokyo traffic or the way her nose scrunches up when she’s frustrated. Alisa flips through her iPhone, grins and blasts a song about 808s and heartbeats so loud that the dashboard shakes and the woman in the car next to them shoot them dirty glares.

Saeko doesn't care, screams the lyrics on the top of her lungs as she keeps a single hand on the wheel, using the other to reach out to Alisa and dance along to the lyrics. Alisa has a look of awe that she can’t seem to wipe off her face, tongue wedges between teeth as she watches Saeko rap and throw back her head, sings the lyrics as if she were on a stage. Saeko can’t be bothered to think about what her stare could mean, too focused on the thrill of the moment and the way Alisa grabs her hand and laces their fingers together, throwing them upwards as one.

And the _life of pablo_ hums steady as the song switches, and the high creeps down to simmer in the heat of their skin as Saeko focuses on the road and trying not to crash. Alisa snickers, turns down the music enough that they can hear each other speak, can hear the lilts in each other’s voice when skin brushes against skin or when Saeko moves to rest her hand on Alisa’s thigh. 

“Wandering hands and a drifting mind?” Alisa chides, grin matching Saeko’s as she grabs her hand and drags it closer to herself. Saeko mock gasps before moving her attention back to theroad as she swerves, car behind them honking as Saeko straightens out. Neither can bother to be annoyed, Saeko flipping him off as she speeds forwards and rounds the corner to some kind of truck stop lookout that faces away from the city and towards the ever expanding suburbia around it.

_Suga Suga_ hums through the car as Saeko sets it in part, pushing back her seat to sigh and close her eyes in rest. Bass beats mix with something sweet, the gentle creak of Alisa adjusting her chair as she clicks her seatbelt undone and twists her body to face Saeko. Saeko cracks open an eye and smiles, softer than usual, reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind Alisa’s ear. Alisa catches her finger tips, brings them to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of her hand, soft and smooth like everything good and unattainable.

“What am I to you?” Alisa wonders aloud, asking the question Saeko’s been thinking about since they’ve met. The steady sounds of guitar hang heavy through the air, muted through old speakers and softened like raindrops in a glass bottle. The air warms with tension, romantic more than anything, and Saeko lets the courage swell in her chest along with the pull towards the grey eyed beauty in front of her.

“Well,” she tells her, smile growing, sitting up to face her body to Alisa’s. “My girlfriend, I’d sure hope.”

It’s all the permission Alisa needs to wipe the dumbfounded look of amazement off her face and surge forwards, pressing kiss after kiss to Saeko’s lips as she climbs over the centre console to straddle her in her seat. Careful as not to sit on the steering wheel, she settles her self over her, Saeko’s arms moving to run up and down the skin of her waist exposed from under her top. Alisa hums, hair shrouding the two of them as Saeko does her best to fiddle with something on the side of the seat.

“What’cha up to?” Alisa chides as Saeko breaks apart their lips, only to be launched backwards as Saeko finds the right level and pulls her down. Alisa squeaks, the noise high pitched and enough to make Saeko burst out into a fit of laughter, the sound reverberating throughout Alisa’s ribcage and spreading the feeling of warmth through her stomach like honey.

Every movement is slow and lazy, accompanied by a glint in the eye or a smirk on the lips or a breath hitched as a hand wanders low. Saeko sucks marks onto the expanse of Alisa’s neck, sloppy and spit slick, hands resting on her hips as Alisa tries not to let her breathing become ragad at the contact. With shaking hands she reaches down to grab the hem of Saeko’s worn band tee, pulling it out of her jeans and pushing it up her stomach and over her head.

There isn’t a purpose— there never was— to the way they move against one another, without coherent though tor plan. Alisa laughs at the scrunch of Saeko’s nose, grinds herself against her thigh and flips her head back, passing headlights of cars illuminating ever hollow of her face. She’s beautiful when she’s like this, as beautiful as when she’s got a face full of fries or puppy dogs eyes or the pimple the size of everest on her forehead. Saeko adores that about her, tugs her closer again and kisses her with the force of the tide and the veneration of a church to the one they worship.

 

When winter comes and freezes any trace of the summer heat, Alisa welcomes it with open arms and her first feature at a small exhibition for nature artists. Saeko packs the nicest clothes she owns— buttoned black pants, skintight in the way she loves and a white button down, trading the blazer that never fit over her chest for a leather jacket worn and loved. Tokyo welcomes her again, and so does the girl with the silver hair, arms spread open in welcome like the shutters of a home, dressed to the nines in heels that make her taller than Saeko thought possible.

“You look amazing,” Alisa stutters, and it’s such a gift to see her flustered and red faced. Saeko slides a hand around her waist and pulls her into a hug, holds her as close as she can with every ounce of enamour she’s held since they’ve met.

It’s an artsy kind of crowd, but it’s also a city crowd of people who look twice at her calloused hands and worn in shoes, that can tell she’s from out of town from the way she talks. Alisa nuzzles her face in the crook of her neck when someone points out her slang, mumbles _I love my country girlfriend,_ and the confession itself gives Saeko a thousand and one butterflies she loves to feel.

They hand fizzy liquored drinks and Saeko drinks one of the other photographers under the table as she explains that, yeah, she’s an engineer, but did you see Alisa’s piece on rebirth and the colour green? With every laugh of the small crowd Alisa’s hold on her hand becomes more present, every private look they share becomes countless words conveyed in a single glance. Saeko rubs her thumb over the back of Alisa’s hand, rests her head on the taller’s arm, closes her eyes for a moment to marvel at the colourful lights that dance on the back of her eyelids. She only opens them when Alisa leans down, lips next to her ear, a millennia of softness in her voice. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” she whispers, sleepiness evident in her tone, mixed with content and the warmth that comes with bubbly drinks and good company.

_Yes,_ Saeko whispers back, _Always._


End file.
